


Hold me tight (and never let go)

by HikariNoHimeWriter



Category: Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alpha Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bickering, Cloud's his masterpiece, F/M, Fanfic writer!Cloud Strife, Fluff and Smut, Implied Zack Fair/Aerith Gainsborough - Freeform, M/M, Mutual Pining, Omega Aerith Gainsborough, Omega Cloud Strife, Sephiroth's an artist, Too anxious to wait for beta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:49:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HikariNoHimeWriter/pseuds/HikariNoHimeWriter
Summary: A sigh leaves his lips. This won’t take him anywhere. His commission continues being just a blank page and Cloud has absolutely nothing better to do. He mentally curses Sephiroth for having a home clean enough it won’t even let Cloud procrastinate properly.“If you’d rather have some kind of motivation, though... would you mind help me with something else once you finish your commission?” Sephiroth asks, voice low and careful.Cloud straightens his back in response, eyes narrowing on Sephiroth’s considering expression. He has a feeling he already knows what Sephiroth needs help with, but he needs confirmation. “Another painting?” (...)Something in his eyes must have done it. Sephiroth exhales through his mouth, hand relaxing on the tabletop before speaking again, “This one’s for an event I’m organizing with some friends. All five of us will expose a piece,” he pauses again, biting his lower lip. Cloud’s afraid that act alone caught his attention more than all of Sephiroth’s words. “It’s about, you see, nude art.”
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 5
Kudos: 173





	Hold me tight (and never let go)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [syac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/syac/gifts).



> First of all: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SY! I love you too much to let this day pass without a gift! Thank you so, so much for being my friend. Your presence makes my life happier ♥  
> I hope you like this ♥

“I should’ve asked for more money,” Cloud sighs. He leans heavily against the back of his chair and closes his eyes tight, not wanting to move but not wanting to look at the damned screen anymore.

With his eyes closed, Cloud can focus on the feel of his clothes against his skin, the tickling of his growing hair against his his neck, the aroma of wood and paper hanging in the air. He can’t help but reach for his neck, fingertips grazing over his scent gland, inhaling the pheromones around him deeper. Apple and cedarwood mingle together in his nose, a combination almost heavenly that makes Cloud relax a little bit despite his ultimate frustration.

He hears a soft chuckle behind him. In any other day, he’d consider himself blessed for hearing that sound. Right now, he can only curse it in his mind. Cloud hates the delight his _dear friend_ seems to take in his suffering. It almost makes him wish he could just throw the nearest object in Sephiroth’s ridiculously handsome face. He doesn’t, though. He’d rather run without coffee than ruining his precious _Code Geass_ manga.

Sephiroth arches an eyebrow, lips curving in a subtle smile that most people would miss—but not Cloud, never Cloud. “I told you it was a bad idea,” he says in an almost condescending tone.

Cloud groans, looking away because, ultimately, Sephiroth is right, _as always_.

The year didn’t start well for Cloud. For one, his tuition fees were readjusted and Cloud found that, between keeping up with college, working and and paying for his mother’s hospital fees after her surgery, he was slowly turning into a zombie. It was hard—he really wanted to go to the finish his course—but Cloud knew paying the hospital first was for the best if he really wanted to avoid trouble with the justice. This led to him working full-time at _Final Fantasy_ with Tifa. Cloud still doesn’t know how he managed to have the job as a barista, but it seemed not even Tifa’s amazing teachings was enough to secure his position and, soon enough, he was not only unemployed, but homeless as well.

Thinking like this, Cloud realizes maybe he shouldn’t be considering throwing the computer at Sephiroth, not after his friend was kind enough to let him live with him. Perhaps he could cook him dinner to apology, even if not a single word left his lips?

“You did,” Cloud finally answers, looking back at the screen.

He’s welcomed with the familiar interface of Shaxpir—and bless Sephiroth for granting him the pro subscription despite Cloud’s attempts to stop him from doing so—and very much blank page that should be completely covered in words by now considering the time Cloud spent on it just today.

He sighs. Taking commissions was Aerith’s idea. His friend always insisted that Cloud’s works were art and he should at least give a try. And, well, any money is more than welcome now, even if just so he can at least pay for the groceries.

Cloud should be happy for the slow but steadily amount his making, but, right now, all it does is frustrate him. “I need a break,” he announces, moving to turn the computer off before standing up. A groan leaves his lips when he stretches his back. Maybe, just maybe, Cloud should start exercising more. He feels as though he’s fallen behind, especially taking into account that Sephiroth never stopped and looks as handsome as always.

Sephiroth’s smile widens a little at the statement. It’s still subtle enough Cloud’s sure a few people would still miss it. He pushes a mug towards Cloud, who doesn’t take longer than a second to recognize the aroma of hot cocoa drifting in the air.

Cloud can’t stop a smile. Of course Sephiroth will keep trying to get him off of his coffee addiction. _Chocolate addiction is way healthier_ , Sephiroth told him once with the same stern tone he used for his students, _and makes your mood swings better_.

Cloud’s loud _I don’t have mood swings!_ still echoes in his mind, more vivid than he’d like to admit.

Sephiroth takes a sip from his own mug—and Cloud will never not be amused at the _I am a jerk, deal with it_ written in bold letters inside a rainbow heart—before looking at Cloud. “To be serious, though, you should be more assertive about your limits, Cloud. It’s not just the money. It’s about your comfort and mental health too.” He’s not berating him, Cloud can tell from his tone alone. He’s worried, as always, as the perfect example of an alpha he truly is.

“Okay,” he concedes. He adds under Sephiroth’s unamused expression, “Really. I’ll take more care... _Next time_.” He knows it still isn’t what Sephiroth wants to hear, but it’s all he can promise now. Cloud takes a sip on his chocolate—this thing definitely wasn’t this good when Tifa made some for him—and hums in thought. “Y’know what’d be way easier? If you helped me figure that shit out.”

“And miss on the chance to enjoy your pain and suffering? Sorry, no.” His smile is back, this time wide enough to show off the tip of his sharp canines. Cloud definitely doesn’t imagine what it’d be like to have them sinking down on his scent gland, no, that’s ridiculous.

Cloud rolls his eyes. He was right all along, it seems: Sephiroth is really having his fun with him. Cloud suddenly wants to throw something on his face again, but he’s not going to waste his drink nor hurt their cactus, Aeron. Aeron is a cutie little thing and Cloud rather likes the pink flower blossoming over the spikes. No, Sephiroth’s pained expression isn’t worth Aeron’s death.

A sigh leaves his lips. This won’t take him anywhere. His commission continues being just a blank page and Cloud has absolutely nothing better to do. He mentally curses Sephiroth for having a home clean enough it won’t even let Cloud procrastinate properly.

“If you’d rather have some kind of motivation, though... would you mind help me with something else once you finish your commission?” Sephiroth asks, voice low and careful.

Cloud straightens his back in response, eyes narrowing on Sephiroth’s considering expression. He has a feeling he already knows what Sephiroth needs help with, but he needs confirmation. “Another painting?”

Sephiroth nods. He still looks troubled, something Cloud can’t quite understand. When the alpha looks at his eyes again, Cloud’s sure this one is different from other times and that whatever the difference is, Sephiroth’s afraid it’ll change his mind.

Something in his eyes must have done it. Sephiroth exhales through his mouth, hand relaxing on the tabletop before speaking again, “This one’s for an event I’m organizing with some friends. All five of us will expose a piece,” he pauses again, biting his lower lip. Cloud’s afraid that act alone caught his attention more than all of Sephiroth’s words. “It’s about, you see, nude art.”

Oh. Cloud blinks at him, slowly processing the meaning of Sephiroth’s words. _Oh_. His cheeks turn a furious shade of red and he knows his scent stronger too, a mix of embarrassment and a hint of satisfaction—something he hopes the alpha won’t notice—over the fact that Sephiroth chose to ask him to do it, and this must mean he thinks Cloud’s pretty?

“Sure,” he answers at last, voice steadier than he thought it would be.

“Sure,” Sephiroth echoes.

For a moment he looks as though he can’t believe what he’s hearing. It’s gone a second later and Sephiroth’s smiling again. It’s not the same pleased smile as before, but a thin, tense one. Had this been any other situation, Cloud would genuinely believe Sephiroth’s genuinely shaken by his answer... _Ridiculous_.

“I don’t work this Friday, so maybe we can start tomorrow’s night. What do you say?” he asks, drinking the rest of his now cold chocolate.

It takes Cloud a few seconds to remember when _Friday_ is supposed to happen. Staying home too long really messes with someone’s mind, he realizes. “That works.”

Sephiroth nods. They don’t say anything else. The silence isn’t uncomfortable as it is with other people. Cloud doesn’t like to talk much—he knows the power words carry to waste them meaninglessly—and Sephiroth is already back to his phone, probably checking something on his e-mail. Cloud can’t stop thinking about Sephiroth’s request, the implications of it and, most importantly, _can I keep my body in check?_ Just the thought of having the alpha’s eyes on him, taking in every detail of his body, makes a shiver run through Cloud’s body.

Sleeping isn’t easy that night; Cloud feels that no matter what he does or where he goes, Sephiroth’s always there, watching him, reaching to touch him. An year ago Cloud would’ve been terrified, maybe call Sephiroth a _stalker_. Right now, though, alone in his—no, _Sephiroth’s_ room, he can only wish the dream was real. He shivers, burying his nose into his nest. He can still feel the alpha’s lingering scent on the blankets under him.

 _You stay here_ , he remembers Sephiroth’s words when Cloud first moved in with him, _it’s the only room with a bathroom. You’ll need it_. Cloud’s heat just two weeks later proved his point all too well. He still can’t thank the alpha enough for doing what he did, for keeping him and taking care of him. If only Sephiroth would...

Cloud sits up with a very irritated, frustrated frown. He walks to the kitchen, picking up a bag of potato chips and a can of coke—something he knows Sephiroth greatly disapproves of but is yet to berate Cloud for—and turning on the computer again.

He has a stupid commission to finish now.

* * *

“So you finished?” Cloud’s positive Aerith never sounded so absolutely done before. She looks at him with a raised eyebrow, as though challenging him to add something else.

Cloud doesn’t say anything else. There’s nothing to add, not after his stupidly long rant on every reason his life’s a mess and how half his problems revolve around the man he’s living with and the very obvious conclusion that he’ll never feel for Cloud half of what Cloud’s feeling right now. Which is ridiculous. If he knows already, he should just be able to hold those feelings back—erase them, even. He’s not one of the oblivious, hopelessly in love characters from his stories. He shouldn’t just be like... _this_.

Aerith sighs. She runs her hand around her neck, right over her omega collar, in a sign of discomfort. Cloud can’t stop himself from reaching for his own collar, mentally cursing the black leather under his fingertips. He hates this, hates that he lives in such a fucked up world he needs to hide himself in order to stay safe from unwanted, forced claims.

It’s all the more frustrating when he thinks that there’s only one person he’d willingly bare his neck for. And that person has no reason to even like Cloud in that way, not with how the omega acts as none the part and puts up meaningless tantrums from time to time.

At this rate, he’d be surprise if anyone is interested in him in that way.

Aerith moves until she’s sitting behind Cloud again. She starts weaving his strands in a rather particular pattern, tying it with tiny flowers. Cloud’s not sure where her sudden interest in his hair came from, but he’s not going to ruin her fun after she patiently listened to everything he had to say for so long.

“First of all, you _are_ one of your stupid characters,” she states, mercilessly pulling on one of Cloud’s golden strand. “Second, you don’t deserve to call yourself a decent human being if you miss on this perfect opportunity.”

“To what? Look at him and ask,” Cloud looks at Aerith, bringing his finger to his lips and faking a suggestive expression, “ _draw me like you French girls_? Really?”

If a glare could kill, Cloud would’ve turned into dust that moment. Aerith pulls on his hair again, forcing him to go back to his past position. “You’re the worst,” is everything she says. For a while all Cloud can hear is the noise coming from outside the flower shop and the radio playing one of those cheesy songs Zack likes so much and, therefore, so does Aerith.

Honestly, Aerith calling out on his bullshit is the biggest hypocrisy happening here.

“Really, though,” she breathes out, resting her hands on her lap once she finishes working on Cloud’s hair, “don’t let it drag on longer. We know you’ve liked him for, what, almost an year now? That’s when you started to let your hair grow again, right?”

Cloud doesn’t look at her. Aerith’s right. He still remembers the day Tifa came in with a ridiculously big stack of pictures of them in their early teenage years and Sephiroth’s half-minded comment of _your hair was prettier before_ that led to Cloud’s now shoulder length strands. He’ll never admit it, though, even if Aerith also knows she’s right.

She sighs again, then smiles. It’s that one smile that tells him she won’t push anymore, that he can relax now. “Y’know what? Stay a little longer. Andrea will _love_ to see you again.”

Forget anything about relaxing. Aerith is a devil with the face of an angel, and Cloud knows he’s about to face a fate worse than being asked questions about Sephiroth all night. But, right now, his curiosity is stronger than his sense of self-preservation.

He just hopes he won’t regret it by the end.

* * *

Cloud completely regrets it. Not only did he go through the worst of punishments, trying on dress after dress brought by Andrea—and all while Aerith watched him as though having the time of her life—he’s now running up the stairs on a rather uncomfortable pair of high heels hoping he’s not _so_ late and Sephiroth isn’t mad at him for making the alpha wait. He sighs when he finally finds himself on the right floor, walking down the hall to Sephiroth’s apartment.

The door doesn’t crack when he steps into the place, unlike Cloud’s previous home. His eyes are immediately drawn to the alpha who’s currently frowning at his phone’s screen. He doesn’t move even as Sephiroth looks up at him, mouth open to say something only to close again when he takes in Cloud’s appearance.

He looks nothing like the lazy Cloud who left the apartment earlier in a pair of sweatpants and a two sizes larger _Death Note_ shirt. His hair is tied in a braided bun with tiny flowers decorating light-colored strands. A purple and black dress holds Cloud’s curves, going just few inches above his knee, leaving the rest of his thigh-high socks exposed for Sephiroth to see. As is this isn’t too much already, Cloud’s lips are a way too dark shade of red, the last detail settled by Aerith herself.

Cloud gulps, reaching for his neck only to be reminded of the last piece that didn’t fit the picture of him created by his two omega friends. The collar feels almost offending now that he’s home and safe and with Sephiroth.

Sephiroth, whose eyes travel up and down Cloud’s body before setting back on his face. His voice sounds almost as a whisper, despite Cloud being able to hear it perfectly, “I suppose... Andrea’s doing?”

“And Aerith,” he adds, knowing no more explanation will be needed. Cloud shifts his weight to his right leg. He bites his lower lip, unsure and awkwardly. “I... I’ll just take a shower and then—”

“Why?”

“—you can start and... What?” He looks at Sephiroth, confusion crystal clear in blue eyes. He can’t help but hold his breath when he notices the change in the alpha’s scent, more like burnt cedarwood now, and _when did you get so close?_ “You said yourself you wanted me... _to_... y’know...”

“I know what I said, Cloud,” he says. A finger touches Cloud’s chin, tilting his face up until their eyes meet again. Sephiroth’s smiling now, a smile that makes Cloud’s entire body shiver. “I didn’t say you’ll _stay_ dressed... Not for long, anyway.” His runs his fingers down Cloud’s neck, hooking over the edge of the omega’s collar. “May I?”

Cloud gulps, nodding. “Under my grey pillow... The key," he answers. Cloud can’t help but think of those thousand stories he wrote over his life; how this scene would go if he was the one writing it. Sephiroth’s hands taking him off the the floor and carrying him all the way to _their_ bedroom before completely breaking Cloud and building him up again.

It’s not what happens. Instead Sephiroth’s hand presses over Cloud’s hip, gently guiding him towards the master bedroom. The bed is as much of a mess as Cloud left it, yet looking at his nest now doesn’t feel right, especially with Sephiroth by his side. It’s not good enough. There’s nothing of the chaotic organization Tifa shows in her works or Aerith’s methodical patterns. He can’t stop the fear that Sephiroth will leave now that he knows Cloud’s not good as an omega or human.

The only move Sephiroth does is to push Cloud to sit on the edge of the bed. The alpha reaches for Cloud’s pillow, not giving attention to the suspicious white stain covering the up side, before turning back to face the omega. Cloud closes his eyes, leaning his head forward to give Sephiroth access to where the tiny locker hangs on his nape. He can’t find it in himself to care that it would probably be easier to give his back to the alpha, not when he has Sephiroth’s arms around him and can almost feel the other’s scent straight from the source.

A sigh leaves Cloud’s lips when he feels the collar being removed. Sephiroth’s fingers brush over his scent glands, slow and deliberate, stealing Cloud’s breath away and making his scent fill the room, stronger and sweeter than before. There’s no hiding his arousal anymore.

“Seph,” he whispers breathlessly. There are so many things he wants to ask, yet is afraid of what voicing them will entail. What if Sephiroth realizes what he’s doing and leaves Cloud for good? Just the thought of it makes his heart ache for this man, the only one his body and mind will recognize as _his._ Cloud’s fingers close around the front of Sephiroth’s shirt.

“It’s okay,” Sephiroth whispers back. He takes Cloud’s hand into his, pressing a kiss to each of his fingers. “I’m not going anywhere, not until this piece is done.” His free hand goes to Cloud’s hips, then his thighs, teasing the hem of his dress.

Sephiroth smiles, watching each and every reaction coming from Cloud closely; his canines look sharper than usual and, again, Cloud wonders how it’d feel to have those canines sinking into his scent glands. His cheeks feel warmer than usual and Cloud’s sure he’s blushing again. “So you’ll do the painting tonight?” he asks.

“Perhaps,” Sephiroth hums in answer. He’s kneeling on the floor now, both hands occupied with taking Cloud’s heels off. The way he does it makes Cloud feel more like Sephiroth’s taking care of him, serving to his needs instead of playing around and setting him on edge. He likes this feeling too much for his own good. “You know what I think about art, Cloud?”

It takes a moment too long for Cloud to register the answer. He blinks at Sephiroth, tilting his head to the side slightly. “No...” He trembles when Sephiroth moves to remove the first sock, pushing it down to reveal more of Cloud’s skin. “What is it?”

“It’s not just about putting it on paper. It’s about claiming the idea as yours and acting to make it real. It starts way before you pick up the pencil. My piece is about beauty. Freedom. Perfection,” Sephiroth pauses, looking up at Cloud through half-lidded eyes, “ _love_.”

Sephiroth pushes himself up until he’s on Cloud’s eye level. His hair is for once free of his habitual ponytail, framing his face just right. Cloud’s fingers itch to touch Sephiroth, feel his face under his fingertips. He doesn’t stop himself, brushing a stray strand away from the alpha’s eyes. He wants to see him, all of him, each and everything Sephiroth’s willing to give him.

“You sure I can fit that image?” Cloud can’t stop the question until it’s too late. He gulps, unable to hold back all thoughts of _worthless_ and _not good enough_ and _ugly_. Those are all things he heard too many times growing up, all of them from people who saw Tifa as the ideal omega and Cloud as the one who couldn’t keep up with his secondary gender.

Sephiroth takes off the remaining sock before silently reaching for the back of Cloud’s dress. Cloud’s breath stutters when the alpha brings him closer, laying his head on Sephiroth’s shoulder. Cloud can _feel_ Sephiroth’s working the buttons keeping his dress in place open, almost painfully slow. His breath hits Cloud’s bare neck, eliciting a low moan.

“There,” Sephiroth almost purrs, lips brushing against Cloud’s ear, “let me hear you... again.” His fingers slip inside Cloud’s dress, pulling the opening on his back further apart. He moans again, louder, the sound dragging on until it’s a sound rumbling in his chest instead. “Good, you’re doing so good. Lay down for me, Cloud? Will you do that for me?”

Cloud nods. He falls back on the mattress. He’s not sure when the dress is gone, all his attention focused on Sephiroth’s eyes. The alpha’s hovering above him now, his silver hair acting as a curtain and hiding Cloud from the world. There’s no one here but them, nothing left on the world but this moment and the feelings that make Cloud’s heart beat faster.

His eyes close. Lips touch his skin, pressing kisses and lovebites wherever they can reach. Cloud’s purr becomes stronger, reverberating in the little space between their bodies, only overpowered by the moans and shighs leaving his mouth—mouth that Sephiroth claims as him, pulling him into a chocolate kiss filled with desire and overwhelming gentleness. Cloud’s not sure what love tastes or feels like, but, if he had to take a guess, he’d say it tastes as Sephiroth’s kisses and feels as warm as the alpha’s touches. It’s almost as though Cloud’s body is a white canvas and Sephiroth’s fingers are drawing indecipherable patterns on his body.

“Perfect,” he says, grazing his teeth over one of Cloud’s nipples. “If only you knew all the things I wanna do with you...”

“Do it,” Cloud retorts, his voice steadier and more confident than he expected. “I’m part of your art, right? Then... you’re free to do as you please.”

Sephiroth growls for the first time since Cloud met him. He raises his head just enough to look at Cloud’s eyes. “Don’t say things so carelessly, Cloud. What if I claim you?”

The statement only makes Cloud smile. “Then you’ll make me the happiest omega alive.”

It’s all it takes for Sephiroth to kiss him again, and again, and again. His hands take off Cloud’s panties—that, embarrassingly enough, match his dress perfectly—before spreading his legs apart. Cloud needs to fight off the urge to close them again, mortified by what he knows the alpha will see: his entrance and most intimus spot, covered in slick and ready to take him inside. He wants to groan and hide his face under any of the pillows around him; Sephiroth, however, only lets out a pleased hum at the sight, matching Cloud’s purr for a brief moment before he lowers his head again.

It takes Cloud too long to understand what Sephiroth’s about to do. He only realizes when he feels a hot tongue brushing over his entrance followed by a deep, pleased growl. Cloud doesn’t even find it in himself to protest, to beg for Sephiroth to just take him and make him his, body, heart and soul. He needs the alpha, _his_ alpha, inside of him so much it hurts. And yet, he can’t stop or urge him when this feels so good Cloud can barely catch his breath—all of this and Sephiroth didn’t touch his cock at all.

It’s embarrassing, but that’s what makes it perfect.

Cloud reaches for the alpha’s hair, not pulling on it as much as he just needs to feel that he _can_ if he so wishes. Sephiroth chuckles, the sound of it vibrating against Cloud’s drenched hole. He lets go, licking some of Cloud’s slick away from his lips. It’s only then that he realizes Sephiroth’s lips are tinted an interesting shade of red. _His lipstick_ , he belatedly realizes, and, _oh_ , does it make Sephiroth look even more handsome and _Cloud’s_.

“Are you ready?” he asks, taking off his shirt before moving to push the hem of his trousers down. Cloud can barely pay attention to the question itself, far too lost in the dips and curves of Sephiroth’s body. He only nods, and his heart skips a beat when Sephiroth smiles at him again. Cloud doesn’t mind that he can taste his own slick on the alpha’s lips. It’s still his alpha, and he wants him in any way and shape and form.

It doesn’t prepare him for the stretch of Sephiroth’s cock. Cloud can’t stop a pained moan from coming out, muffled by his alpha’s lips. It hurts, hurts far more than Cloud imagined for his first time. It’s still the best thing he felt in his whole life. They’re together, they’re one, and there’s nothing in the world Cloud can wish for more than this.

 _I love you_ , the words fill Cloud’s mind and come to the world in the form of happy tears. He pulls Sephiroth into another kiss, messy and breathless as the alpha thrusts harder and faster into him. He can feel Sephiroth’s knot catching on his rim, denouncing the alpha’s just as close as Cloud is.

“I love you,” the words now ring in Sephiroth’s voice, softer and warmer than Cloud could ever dream of. The alpha kisses him again, pressing his lips to Cloud’s cheek, his chin, his jaw, his neck, until he reaches the omega’s scent gland.

No warning is needed. Sephiroth’s teeth break through Cloud’s skin. Pain bubbles from the bite only to be replaced with a wave of happiness and absolute completion. He calls out his alpha’s name when he comes, white ropes of cum staining his and Sephiroth’s bellies. It doesn’t take long before Sephiroth fills his insides with his seed too, his knot fully expanding and locking him in place. He collapses on top of Cloud, breathing heavily as though these past minutes took a bigger toll on his body than all hours of exercises he goes through every every day.

Cloud can’t hold back a smile. “About that drawing...”

“Forget it,” comes Sephiroth’s sharp, albeit irritated answer. Cloud can feel it, a wave of sheer jealousy that doesn’t belong to him. “I won’t let anyone else see you... Not now that you’re _mine._ ” The emphasis on the word only confirms what Cloud already knows.

 _And this is perfect_.

**Author's Note:**

> Kissus ♥


End file.
